


Yours, Remus Lupin

by ProfessorDrarry



Series: Will You Write Me a Letter, Sing Me a Song [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First War with Voldemort, Get Together, Letters, M/M, Marauders' Era, Seventh year, beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 14:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorDrarry/pseuds/ProfessorDrarry
Summary: The letters they wrote each other were the beginning of it all. The beginning of forever. The beginning of the end. They were how they found each other, and how they lost each other. They were pointless, and yet they were everything.And Sirius Black had kept every single one.PART ONE, the beach, the summer. Cue lobsters and pranks, sunbathing, and general flirting that has to lead somewhere.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know, it’s a letter fic, which has been done so many times. Oh so many times. But I think that Remus and Sirius a) definitely wrote to each other and b) definitely missed each other endlessly when they spent time apart. So, epistolary it is. Regardless, this had to get written so that it would leave my brain alone.   
> Warning: If you prefer your Wolfstar light and fluffy and ending at a get-together, I give you full permission to stop after part one.
> 
> James is bold. Remus writing at the end of other letters is in italics.

** Part One: Yours, Remus Lupin **

_**the summer before seventh year** _

                                       July 18, 1977

Dear Sirius,

James seems to believe you may be bored. He also seems to think that me writing to you is somehow going to help. I think he may be vastly overestimating how entertaining letters can be. Anyway, whatever, I’m writing to you so he’ll stop owling me. His owl is a jerk (which is why I am using it to write back to you. You two deserve this.)

How are you? Since it's been twelve whole days since I left you at the train station, I can only imagine that you are currently both full of every home-made baked good Mrs Potter has been storing for you. I also assume you two are stir crazy and plotting destruction. Which believe me, should have all of Norfolk trembling; the last time you and James were there together the entire summer, the swimming pond ended up full of eels. Have I ever explained to you how stupid that prank was? It was really only you and James who suffered from that one. How is the pond, hm? Still full of eels?

Mum is being typically resistant to me coming to visit at the end of hols (I know, I know, everyone is shocked). The usual ‘you spend all year with those boys, would it kill you to spend one full holiday with us’. I feel as though she has forgotten that at least twice this summer, I will stop being her little baby Remus and become a deadly Dark Creature.

I absolutely refuse to change more than once in Wales. It is terrible here. I can’t believe this is where my parents have chosen to stay; it's freezing and it's raining, and maybe none of that is actually Wales’ fault, but we really live in the middle of nowhere, and I don’t want to stay. Sorry to whinge. Not your problem.

ANYWAY, point is, I’ll keep working on them. Try not to maim anyone, including yourself, in the meantime.  

Trapped in Wales and Dying of Boredom,

Remus Lupin

 

                                       July 19, 1977

Darling Remus Lupin,

Why on earth did you sign that letter with your full name? Did you seriously think I wasn’t going to figure out who you were?

You WOUND my very nature by suggesting that I would do an injury to myself or to James with something as sacred as a prank. Honestly, mate.

Though you are right. Things are in fact quite boring, but I suspect I shouldn’t complain because by boring, I mean ‘too many hours spent lounging by the pond’ or ‘eating sweets from the muggle beach store’. It's been quite sunny here. Also not helpful, I know. James and I are making these ridiculous bracelets out of these colourful strings we found at the store. It's a bit naff really, but James thinks we are brilliant at it. I have to admit, he’s getting pretty good at it. His patience occasionally astounds me. I think he might’ve been quite a successful serial killer in another life. But the bracelets are a much safer application of his focus. He made us all matching ones. I am sending you yours. Don’t say I never gave you anything.

There do seem to be fewer eels this year! Maybe they are finally dying off? That’s something.

Also, I am gloriously tanned. James will try to tell you that I am not, and that my pale and delicate English skin is as pasty as ever, but he’s lying. He’s just jealous. And I’m not saying that just because I am jealous of his olive complexion.

Don’t tell anyone I said ‘olive complexion’.

MOONY, I am forbidding you from getting forbidden from coming to the beach! I have enclosed some North Sea sand to convince you.

Also, you should see the style of swimsuits that appear to be popular this year, Remus. It is good for one’s health. Here is a sketch (James says I am no longer allowed to take photos of strangers on the beach. This is a tasteful, bodiless rendition instead.)

I am also sending Pip with a box of Mrs P’s Icebox Cookies. Hide them!

Fantastically Tanned,

Sirius ‘Dear-Lord-He’s-Glorious’ Black

 

                                       July 21, 1977

Dear Sirius,

I was going to say ‘cheers for the cookies’, but then I opened your letter a bit too close to the open box and now all I have to say to you is—YOU ARE A GIANT TIT. Who in the bloody hell sends SAND in an ENVELOPE. The bracelet is covered in it too.

And before you ask, no, your drawing did not make up for it. You know how much I hate sand. No amount of ‘tasteful, bodiless’ bather drawings will make up for it.

You are an ass,

Remus

       

                           

                                       July 21, 1976

Dear Remus,

I checked with James. Apparently, he agrees with you. The sand was a poor decision. Have more cookies and forgive me?

Apologetic and humble,

Sirius Black

 _Fine_.

_– Remus_

                                       July 26, 1976

Dear Remus,

Good! Now that you’ve forgiven me, I can tell you about Sheldon! Sheldon is my new best friend. I am sorry to tell you that you and James have been replaced. Peter shall remain in third place, as always, but Sheldon wins. However, you are going to totally understand when you meet him. Sheldon is hilarious. He has better jokes than any of us. Why just yesterday, he pulled this gag where he climbed out of my pocket at dinner and crawled into the salad bowl! Mrs P loved it. Classic Sheldon.

Wait—I suppose that story would be funnier if I told you that Sheldon was an unidentified mollusc. James took a photo which I am currently trying to take off him to send to you. Come meet him, will you!

Laughing Endlessly,

Sirius

 

      **July 26, 1976**

**Dear Remus,**

**Can you please either get here now or convince him to get rid of the lobster? He won’t listen to me. Please. For the love of Merlin. I have heard every possible mollusc joke on the planet.**

**Thanks,**

**Prongs**

July 27, 1977

JAMES POTTER AND SIRIUS BLACK,

YOU TWO IDIOTS. LISTEN TO ME. That thing is neither a lobster nor a mollusc. It is a crayfish. But regardless of what it is, YOU DON’T KEEP SHELLFISH INSIDE.

RELEASE IT, SIRIUS. NOW.

Honestly,

Remus ‘Picker of Dumb Friends’ Lupin

 

                                       July 28, 1977

Moony,

I am heartbroken. James let Sheldon go in the middle of the night. I am inconsolable. Come comfort me.

Currently crying,

Padfoot

 

                                       July 29, 1977

Remus?

Okay, yes, it was a little silly to try and keep a lobster crayfish, but hardly worth the silent treatment, mate. I mean, this is me we’re talking about.

Write me! I demand it!

Sirius

 

                                   July 30, 1977

Dear Mr Remus John Lupin,

James and I deeply regret the capture and undue torture of innocent wildlife. Erm...again. We shall attempt not to be so dumb in the future. For now, please accept our sincerest apologies and five Muggle money things worth of fizzing candy, your favourite.             

Grovelling hopelessly,

James Fleamont Potter and Sirius Orion Black

 

**July 31, 1977**

**Moony,**

**Seriously, mate, you need to write to him. He is going barmy, and he is, therefore, driving me mental. He's going to turn up on your doorstep soon if you don't forgive him. This is a heartfelt plea. So heartfelt that I even used THE WORD.**

**Seriously serious,**

**– Prongs**

FUCK. REMUS. We really are idiots. James and I just went to have a campfire on the beach and looked up and we remembered. I can’t believe I lost track of time. I’m on my way. Mrs P is letting me floo to Monmouth. I’ll be there in two hours, tops. Hold on.

– Sirius

S,

Don’t come. Sending Pip, he’ll find you in time. Am fine. Just tired. Relax. Will write properly soon.

– Remus

 

Moony,

Pip found me before I got to Wales. I’m in Hogsmeade. Are you sure? I’m already halfway there. I already have chocolate!

– Pads

_No. I’m fine. Go back to the beach._

_– Moony_

Fine, Moony. I really am sorry. Only reason I’m not already on my way again is that your parents are scary. Write me the minute you wake up.

– Pads

Ps. Sending the chocolate anyway because I am nicer than you give me credit.

 

                                       August 2, 1976

Dear Sirius,

Stop beating yourself up about forgetting the moon. We both know you are. Stop it. I didn’t remind you because you were already there for one this month. You and James deserved a break. You can’t actually fix anything, and you two were perfectly fine at the beach. I’m glad you weren’t here, frankly. It was a bad one. Dangerous. I’m tired; bone ache is bad. Mum’s called a healer, so I should be fine after a few more rounds of foul Restorative Draught. That and four days of sleep and I’ll be right as...hm, well, a werewolf? Never mind then. I’m going back to sleep.

STOP FEELING GUILTY SIRIUS BLACK.

I’ll not tell you again.

Write soon,

Remus

 

August 3, 1976

Messr Moony of (albeit unwillingly) Wales,

This letter is to confirm that your post of Controller of the Thoughts and Feelings of Others has been hereby suspended until further notice. We regret to inform you that you are no longer able to command Messrs Padfoot and Prongs to feel less guilty. Nor can you halt the inevitable creation of a great many ‘Things to Make it Up to Moony’. Please consider this instalment the first.

Contained within this box are the following:

  * 1 pkg of Honeydukes Most Marvellous Mix, with optional Honey Crackle, well known to be a favourite of Moony’s everywhere
  * 3 pkg extra peppery pepper imps, because even though they are gross, Moony’s feel better after smoking at the ears
  * 1 box unnecessarily fancy tea
  * 1 mug made specifically for a Moony, reading ‘If Grandpa can’t fix it, we’re all screwed’
  * 1 intimidatingly large novel that the lady at the bookshop recommended (purchased at a discount because she fancies James) **← She does not!  
**
  * 1 copy of the new instalment of the awful serialised drama we all pretend you don’t read
  * 1 brand new jumper because we all know you are cold right now ← **This is not true. The jumper is Sirius’ and is definitely going to be too small.**
  * 1 pkg smelly bath salts from that place you always go to when you are at the beach. Take a bath. It always helps.



Get better so you can get here. Messrs Padfoot and Prongs offer their sincerest apologies and do solemnly swear to never again forget to own a calendar.                 

Sincerely,

The Society for the Removal of Jobs That Don’t Exist

_Sirius,_

_That really wasn’t necessary._

_Thank you._

_\- Moony_

 

MOONY!!!

YOUR MOTHER CALLED MRS P! YOU ARE COMING IN TWO DAYS?!

\- PADFOOT WHO IS EXCITED

 

_Padfoot,_

_Yes, I will be there next week. Please promise to calm down by then. I can hear you from here._

_\- Moony_

_ps. Yes, I am excited too. Obviously._

 

BUT MOONY!

MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY MOONY.

– Sirius

 

August 5, 1976

Dear Sirius,

That’s it. You were warned.  No more owls being accepted from you, Black.

You are banned from post.

Rather irritated, 

_Remus_

 

**August 6, 1976**

**Dear Remus,**

**I am sending you this under duress. Sirius has a very compromising photo of me held hostage and threatens to send it to Evans if I don’t write you. I refused once and he...oh, he’s glaring now. Nevermind.**

**He wishes to inform you that he is very very excited that you are coming in five days. He would like to remind you to bring your bathers. Also, there really aren’t many eels left in the pond. I swear! I only saw one this week.**

**Please send help,**

**Prongs**

**Ps. For the record, I’m excited you are coming too. Peter will be here next Friday. Gang’s all together! Why I wasn’t allowed to just write you to myself is a mystery who answers to the name of Sirius Black.**

 

August 6, 1976

Dear Prongs,

Are you safe from the Puppy Menace? I shall not, of course, be bringing bathers, just like every year. And I assume you two will throw me in the pond at some point anyway...just like every year. Everyone knows their parts?

Wondering why I’m friends with you two,

_Moony_


	2. Chapter 2

August 7, 1976

Remus!

I am very, very, very glad you are here. You’re asleep right now in the Tiny Shell Room, but I have quite found I am too excited to sleep. Why did you come so late, Moony? You and your sleep. I am writing this to you anyway and putting it under your door.

Wanna go get ice cream tomorrow?

Your friendly neighbourhood,

Padfoot

 

August 8, 1976

Sirius,

You are ridiculous. Stop writing to me from the next room. Why am I writing you back? Why did I also write the date? It is very weird. You are very weird.

I am very happy to be here, too. It’s nice that nothing has changed—the pond, the cottage, even the beach patch. It’s all the same.

We can go for ice cream if you ever get out of bed. It’s half eleven!

From,

Moony

 

August 8, 1976

Moony,

Never! Isn’t it more fun, talking like this? Just think, James doesn’t even know! No one knows! It’s hilarious, and I shan’t stop. See? I’m dead determined. I’m so determined, I said ‘shan’t’. I can’t believe you got RUM RAISIN ICE CREAM today. You are honestly 90, my friend.

Um, Remus...do you promise you aren’t mad at us for the second moon thing? I hope not. Because if you forgive me, then I can tell you secrets. SUMMER SECRETS.

– Padfoot

 

Padfoot,

Why am I doing this? This is stupid. I really hate you sometimes. Also, rum raisin is delicious. You are missing out. Now;

We are fine. Stop apologising.

What secrets?

– Moony

 

Somehow I don’t think you actually hate me- shit! No greeting! Mum would be appalled. Wait, I’ll restart;

August 9, 1976

Dearest Sir Remus Moonykins Lupin,

The tale I am about to tell you contains pain and suffering of the pureblood variety. Are you sitting down? (I mean, I happen to know that you are lying down because you are never upright the second you think no one will care. All more evidence of your geriatric age).

So, in the last week of term, Reg heard a rumour that there was going to be a big wedding this summer. He wrote to me. I know-- GASP-- I bet you are shocked. I bet you are wondering how you missed such EARTH SHATTERING news of the wizarding elite. I am about to shock you further, though. Just prepare yourself.

Know whose wedding it was going to be?

MINE.

That’s right, Remus Lupin. I was to be wed (this very week, in fact), in a full Ancient Ceremony, Bloodbond way. To my cousin, naturally. Andromeda Black. Remember her? Four years ahead of us, all the blond hair and attitude, but not the Black attitude, more like the fun, rebellious, fuck-your-traditions attitude? No? Anyway, we have been betrothed since my infancy. I may have forgotten to mention it, seeing as I planned to leave the continent under an assumed name before I allowed that to happen. Not that it would be so bad, really. Drom is kinda cool. At least, better than marrying Bellatrix. Still, she’s my cousin. And you know, female–not that the Black’s see that particular problem as a problem. Just ask Old Uncle Pollux and Aunt Irma. Or their “butler”, Edward.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter because ANDROMEDA HAS ELOPED WITH A MUGGLE BORN.

Right?? I’ve never been quite so proud of my family. Regulus showed up last week to inform me that I will now be marrying Bella. I promptly told him to get stuffed. I have since been, ahem, ‘removed as heir of the Noble House of Black’, which likely means I am no longer welcome for Sunday dinner? Phew! Mrs Potter’s cooking is quite a lot better if we are honest.

Anyway, that is your bedtime story for this evening, young man. No, off to sleep with you. It is well past your night-night.

Sweet Dreams,

Padfoot

 

Sirius,

What the fuck? You were….wait, were you disowned? Is Andromeda okay? Are you okay? Only you would joke about this. Look, it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but like, I mean...tell me if you need to, okay? Or write to me, or whatever?

Erm, also. Merlin, I shouldn’t. I should just leave this, but. Did you just tell me that one of the problems with marrying your cousin was that she was a girl?

I tried to knock last night but you wouldn't open the door. Even though we both know you were still awake. You dolt. Now I'm just pacing myself silly because you won't talk to me. Please promise to emerge from your room soon, okay?

Your friend,

Moony

 

A day in August of which I have lost track, 1976? No. 1977.

Remus,

I’m fine. Well, okay, no. That’s a lie. I wasn’t fine. I drank a lot that night and threw up in Mrs Potter’s azaleas, but the next afternoon (when I woke up), Mrs P sat me down and we talked. She said I could always stay with them, and we fire-called Andromeda, and she’s really happy. My family is awful, that’s always been true. Don’t worry. I joked because it's ridiculous. Its...its fine.

As for the other thing. Er, yes? I told James earlier. Please tell me you aren’t going to get all weird around me. I expected that of James, but he’s too distracted by all the Evans business to really notice. I expect I’ll have to beat Peter up a few times before he gets stops being weird and stupid about it, but. I mean, I didn’t think you- Actually, no, that isn’t fair. You react how you need to react, Remus. I’m here, I’m still Sirius, so I hope that’s what counts.

Your friend,

Sirius ‘no longer a’ Black

 

August (it’s the 12th), 1977

Dear Sirius,

I’m breaking what I assume are the rules of our weird game here because I’m writing to you in the middle of the day. In public, in fact. You, James and Peter are all over there, terrorising pedestrians in the surf. I’m sitting here on Mr Potter’s blanket. He’s half asleep, and I told him I was writing to my mum when he asked.

I’m breaking the rules to tell you a story. It’s been plaguing me all day. You’re actually worried, aren’t you? That I’ll treat you differently because you told me? I feel like you may be forgetting that I also exist in a weird part of the sidelines of society. Um, werewolf? It’s sort of a crucial detail.

Since I know that has not assuaged your fears, I am actually writing to tell you a different story. I am going to tell you why my father and I are not really speaking anymore. See, I told you all last summer, but you all assumed that it was because of something to do with the Change, and I didn’t correct you.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s go back.

Once upon a time, a young man went home for the summer holiday, a thing which he did not enjoy for a variety of reasons. He, as usual, spent much of his time in his room reading large and dusty books in utter uninterrupted reading bliss, with no silly interruptions by pranksters claiming to be his friends, no urgent Tasks to complete. It was lovely.

The first full moon that summer was very early, only two weeks or so after getting home. The boy’s father came to get him and take him to the cave where he is locked and expected to transform each month he is at home. Only, the boy’s father didn’t knock. And he found the boy in a rather, um, compromising position. It would be funny if this were just a ‘teenage boy caught having a wank’ story, but unfortunately, the boy may or may not have been using some atypical ~~unusual~~ ~~specific~~ material to assist him.

The boy’s father isn’t a bad bloke, not really. He’s tried very hard, for a very long time, to deal with an impossible situation the best way he knew how. I think this last thing was a bit much for him. Plus, he’s, you know, from an older generation. Anyway. Words were spoken. Shouting may have also happened. And Mum may have had to step in (we were hours from the full moon, after all). Now it’s tense and weird and we just don’t speak.

The point of this, Sirius, is that I would also have...er, had an issue with Andromeda being female.

You worry too much, Black, I am always telling you. You can call me a ‘mushy wanker’ for the rest of our lives after this if you must, but don’t panic. We all love you, no matter what. Even if you are all poor and untitled and a raging homosexual. Maybe tell Peter though, hey? He should have stopped using the word ‘ponce’ by now anyway, since we aren’t twelve, but help him along. I know I'd appreciate it.

Oh lovely, now you and James are heading this way with very scary gleams in your eyes. It’s meant to be the pond, Sirius. Not the North Sea. You know I hate to swim. This is a terrible last letter if I die. If you are reading this while I am dead, you had better be crying or I am going to haunt you.

Crap, you’re almost here,

Remus

 

August 13th is too depressing to write. Summer is almost over!

~~Moony~~ Remus,

Wrote back last night, but I didn’t ~~send~~  bring it over. I tried, actually, but you were already asleep, and everyone knows you don’t wake a sleeping Moony. Unless you want death glares and silent revenge for a week. I should just be talking to you, but something about this felt like it needed to be...more formal?

We’re all in our separate rooms now, because it’s raining. And because we had a fight. Well, Peter had a fight with all of us and now no one is speaking, which is actually quite ridiculous since we're all just angry at Peter for being a tosser.

Actually, this is very stupid. I’m coming to deliver this now.

I want to speak to you. If you want to speak to me, you know where I am.

From,

Sirius

* * *

_I’m not ready for words. You’re an ass._

_– R_

Agreed. You’re still there, right?

– Sirius

_Yes. We really don’t need to sign these...You’re in your room, shoving notes under the door. I know who is writing._

Right. Sure. Right. Did you mean it, Moons?

_Yes. Did you?_

Which time?

_Sirius._

Fine. Yes, but not the way I said it.

_???_

I didn’t mean to call you...that…

_What? A ‘were-bumder’? See, that one was actually quite inventive. I was impressed. I only took issue with you saying ‘you don’t see me trying to poke him night after night, do you’._

Yeah. That. I’m sorry.

_I just explained that I meant it when I said ‘if you were the last queer on the planet, I’d still not’. We were angry. I’m sorry too._

Yeah, but at Peter. Why are you and I fighting?

_Don’t think we are. But I’m residual angry and I hate talking to you when I’m mad because you whine._

I DO NOT, Moony! You take that back!

_Like a five-year-old girl. You know you do, or you’d have opened the door._

I’m not ready to talk to you either. I’m all red and blotchy. Look, there’s another thing I have to tell you.  
The thing James said.

_Um. Yeah. The ‘at least stop pretending you’ve told him everything’ comment? You don’t have to say, Sirius._

Yeah. Yeah, I do, Moons. Not fair otherwise. Give me a mo, though. Right back.

* * *

Dear Remus,

This is the final letter. After this, we either need to talk, or never talk again. Or something.

When I told James I was going to write you letters this summer, he said, ‘is it because I’m boring you’ and I said, ‘no, it’s because I miss him’. And I thought James would get it, but he didn’t he just looked at me funny and said, ‘yeah, me too.’ But I stopped him and said, ‘no, Prongs, I miss him like you miss Lily’. He didn’t get it right away because he isn’t you. That’s why I told him about Andromeda. We’re fine now.

Don’t worry, or anything. I know you don’t feel that way and I promise not to make this weird because if we can stay friends that would be splendid. Because honestly, Remus, besides the other stuff, you’re the best of all of us, and we need you. All of us. We need a Moony to keep us from prison and murder, and I refuse to ruin another thing by being Sirius Black. Especially in a way that will lead to James and Peter’s ultimate demise, with no one sensible there to stop us.

Anyway. That’s all. I’m hoping this reads like I told you because I can’t think of any other way to say it. I guess I could try saying this;

_Yours_ ,

Sirius

* * *

The knock on the door startled Sirius, even though he had shoved the letter under the door with the full knowledge that someone was on the other side, someone who would read it right away. He opened the door slowly, aware that he was holding his breath but unable to let it go.

Remus Lupin was standing there, more open and present than he’d been there all summer. Whether it had been because Remus had been strange and distant since the fight with his father, or if he himself had caused weird tension with his realisation of Feelings, things had been a bit off for ages. Sirius allowed himself a full look; he would have to be exceptionally careful after this moment.

Remus was in the cable knit jumper with tiny blue boats knit onto the sleeves. It had been Mr Potter’s, but it was unofficially Remus’ now, and he lived in it whenever he was at the cabin. Because Moony was always cold, everywhere. It could still be twenty degrees out, but the second the sun was down, Remus was shivering.

His hair was weirdly long, presumably because he hadn’t given Peter the time to cut it, which was usually why their hair was semi-neat throughout the year, since the discovery in second year that he actually had a very steady hand. Now, they’d be scruffy until the last week of the holiday; no hair cuts while mad, none while the moon was full. Those were Rules for a reason. Even Sirius’s long tresses could use a tidy. It didn’t suit Remus, and somehow that made it even more endearing.

He was also abnormally healthy looking. Tan and relaxed, well-fed. It was almost too much when Sirius also noticed the gleam in his eye. He left out the stale air he'd been holding in with one giant huff.

“Dear Sirius,” Remus said. “Remember that story I wrote you? The one about my dad? It’s weirder than I originally said, and while we are busy confessing things…”

Sirius looked at him carefully. Remus embarrassed easily, but this was different somehow.

“The, er, material I was using...it was...It was your school Quidditch photo. So, I guess, my point is, maybe we could…”

Sirius just stood there processing.

“Um, yeah. Anyway, whatever,” Remus continued. “Yours, too. Remus Lupin.”

“Remus,” Sirius echoed.

“Um...yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

James stuck his head out of his room, two doors down, and shouted.

“Oi, Pete!”

Peter stuck his head out too, looking annoyed.

“Looks like these two are finally getting together,” James said loudly. “Any objections?”

“‘Bout fucking time, Prongs, don’t you think?” Peter allowed, crossing his arms and scowling.

“Well, yeah,” James shrugged, turning back to look at Remus.

“Um, what?” Remus interjected.

“Oh, right,” James said, turning to face them. “We staged the fight, Moony. Peter’s not really that big of a bigoted ass.”

“Cheers mate,” Peter deadpanned, still annoyed.

“Course,” James said easily.

“What?” Sirius and Remus chorused together.

“Pete and I were bored with the weird ‘will they, won’t they’ drama you two had going on. Dead annoying really. Didn’t have time to get distracted anymore. It’s our last year, you two. I’m HEADBOY. Don't have time to referee. Plus, the letters were weird. So, many happy returns and etcetera. Shag on my bed, and I will have you both murdered.”

“Same,” Peter nodded.

“Apparently Wormy feels the same. I’ll let you go snog now. Bye.”

James and Peter both disappeared back into their rooms, and the pounding, pelting din of a summer seaside storm pierced the muffled corridor as both boys stared at each other once more after the doors closed.

They burst out laughing at the same time. They laughed until Sirius grabbed Remus by the jumper and pulled gently. Then, the laughter died as suddenly as it had started. He closed the door softly but still heard James let out a loud wolf whistle.

“Let’s get new friends,” Sirius said, pulling Remus close, smelling him, feeling him. It was weird being allowed to do that in the open. He'd been doing it sneakily for longer than he cared to admit.

“Agreed,” Remus said, closing the gap between their mouths.

* * *

Dear Sirius,

You are asleep beside me right now. You're super clingy, while asleep, just so you know. I plan on using this information against you as soon as is humanly possible. I'm so excited by the prospect of this that I may even enlist James to help me. He's so much better at the planning.

I woke up a few minutes ago, and I saw the paper, and… Well, now I, of course, have no idea why I'm writing this.

Can you believe this will be our last year at Hogwarts? I, for one, did not anticipate feeling so nostalgic. Alas, I am being a Moony Sop, which you will tease me about later, but which I suspect is part of why you like me.

About that, actually. Thank you. Is that weird? That is likely a bit strange. I could cross it out, but I am deciding not to. Thank you for liking me. I shall be the envy of every small Gryffindor girl since the beginning of your school career. Except, maybe you don't want to tell people? That's fine too. I'm easy.

Ha. I'm going to get crap for that too, aren't I?

Okay. I'm going to go back to sleep now. I'm cold. Warm me up?

Oh dear. I am terribly cheesy in this. Please forgive me.

Yours (still, whether you like it or not),

_Remus_

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a weird bonus I'm trying. Follow the link for a  
> [scrapbook](http://pin.it/om9bon0) of the boys' summer on pintrest.


End file.
